


Dancing in Circles

by aobears



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Growing Up, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, tbh ngl i have no idea how to tag this, they r idiots with communication issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 05:58:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6143758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aobears/pseuds/aobears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Naruto’s life had been so terrible, so lonely, why the hell should he assume that the boy whose name was on his wrist would have Naruto’s, or would even want it. He was that one case where no love could, or would, be found.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing in Circles

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to nadja (catmagics) who beta'd this fic for me, i s2g i would've never posted it otherwise  
> inspired by that one tumblr prompt about soulmates and enemies on wrists  
> this is the longest stand alone fic ive written, it is lovingly named sasunaru hell in my docs because it was a pain in the ass to edit  
> i should mention that i havent even finished the original series yet So! just Go with it

     There were many stories that focused on the existence of Soul Marks, writing on the wrists that gave the names of future happiness and hell. Those stories, told from generation to generation, spoke of Fates who had determined futures for mankind. Those futures, cryptic and short, were inscribed with the names of other people in the skin, speaking of hope, bliss, satisfaction, as well as pain, and death. Most ninjas hid the writing on their wrists, not because they held vital veins and chakra points, but because if faced with an enemy, the knowledge would completely ruin them. Emotional pain is much worse than that of physical pain.

     The left wrist held the name of love, and was kept covered at all times by those who needed it to be. The other wrist held those who could bring death, the obstacles one was to fight through. While the name on the left gave hope, the name on the right gave strength and determination. The names of one’s destined enemies did that to you.

     The names could change, be rewritten, erased, or scratched out, and it was common that someone could bear several names on the right uncovered wrist. Sometimes the names were bright, the lines thick and penmanship curled, and sometimes the names were crossed out, a mark of death, a conquered obstacle.

     Naruto’s right arm held the scripts of his adversaries, a list so long it stretched up from his wrist and spiraled in around his wrist and up his arm. The lines of script did not seem torn or crossed out, not yet. He had them out in the open once, his wrists, when he was young and still foolish to believe that anyone in the village would see him as normal, and would take pity on him. The whispers he got when he had left his arms bare, the screams from little girls he had tried to approach, the silent parting of the crowd. From then on, his orange jumpsuit served good purpose.

     His forced isolation from the village people when he was younger occasionally pushed him into the library. He wasn’t a quick reader or very good at memorizing, or even academically ambitions but when he found the dusty bookshelf in the very back he felt like he found a purpose. The books he read on Uzushio spoke of the Uzumaki’s, his family, his ancestry. They spoke of their techniques and lifestyles, the descriptions of the village and the river that ran through it. Naruto found himself captivated, and one by one he removed each book from the shelf and transferred it to the shabby one in his apartment. No one would miss them. He found scrolls of seals and jutsus that came from Uzushio, and with an aching heart for a home he did not have he learned all he could. He hoped that he could one day visit Uzushio, destroyed or not.

     Uchiha was a big name in the village, he heard it when he was young, whispered amongst the streets. He read the name on his left wrist, and he read the same name on his right, and pity rose to his throat after he heard the supposed news of the Uchiha betrayal. He hoped he didn’t meet the owner of the name; he didn’t want to cause more misfortune.

~

     In the academy, he was forced to meet Sasuke. They were young, there was no magnificent spark that Naruto could claim they shared, but there was something. 

     The kiss they shared after graduating was accidental, everyone knew that. So the spark that flew past their lips, electrified Naruto’s wrists and sent his heart thudding was written off, forgotten until the nights where sleep played games.

     Fighting with Sasuke was both like heaven and like hell. Even his young mind could marvel at the frozen hands that threw jaw-aching punches and the mouth set in a perpetual frown of silent rage and pain. After fights where Naruto’s cheek would end up purple and he we would walk away with a slight limp, he would imagine late at night that the fist that struck his cheek was not a fist, but fingertips, sliding down his jaw. The leg that struck him in the stomach were legs that were tangled with his at night. He was aching for something he could not allow himself to have.

     Sometimes, Naruto found himself looking at Sasuke. There was something about the curve of his jaw and the ease with which he pulled himself off the ground after being forced down again by Kakashi. There was something about the way his hair stuck up, even while being battered by senbon, kunai, jutsu. He had touched Sasuke’s hair before, usually when they would pummel the lights out of each other for some silly reason they never discussed. Even if the touch in those moments was short and Naruto’s grip was strong and tight, he still could feel the silken strands slide through his fingers like water. And each time he noticed himself staring at his teammate and friend, he had to force himself to remember, that Sasuke wasn’t for him.

     There were chances of names not being the same for each person. He had read about those people when he had nothing else to do and he was all alone. He had read about people who had one name on their wrist, but when they had confessed, that person had a different name on theirs. Naruto’s life had been so terrible, so lonely, why the hell should he assume that the boy whose name was on his wrist would have Naruto’s, or would even want it. He was that one case where no love could, or would, be found.

     It did hurt a little, when Sakura and Ino would yell of their love for Sasuke, show him their makeup covered wrists with smudged eyeliner that had his name written in handwriting that obviously wasn’t his. Whenever he accidentally passed by Sasuke and some girl trying to confess with a false name, Naruto would step in and lay an arm, always his left across Sasuke’s shoulder. Because obsessed teenage girls were terrifying and the cold burn of jealousy also pulled at him. His wrist would itch as he would give an excuse for Sasuke to get away, something about missing their meeting time at the Ramen Stand. Sasuke never objected.

     After the invasion of Sound and Sasuke’s collapse, Naruto brought back Tsunade. He didn’t know what he was expecting when he returned, maybe Sakura’s approval he was striding hard to get, maybe a nod from Sasuke. Traveling with Jiraiya, Shizune, and Tsunade, he realized, had made him think he was needed, worth something, worth love. Returning back and seeing Sasuke enveloped in Sakura’s arms as if he wasn’t there at all, reality shined through. He wasn’t worth a thing to them.

     When Sasuke joined Orochimaru, fighting him stopped being like heaven. Each meeting, each punch became less like a hope of underlying gentleness, and more of a death sentence. No longer did Naruto dream of fingertips sliding down his throat, or legs tangling with his. There was no time, there was no point.

 

     Sasuke hid his arms as well, since he knew the implications of having  _ his _ name on both arms. He didn’t show his wrists, he didn’t speak of them. Yet often he would find himself wishing that his fights with Naruto would last longer, go slower, softer, where he could feel each touch of skin. Feel Naruto’s breath fan across his face and instead of seeing cold steel in his eyes, he wished he would see soft blue of Konoha sky.

     When they had kissed accidentally that one time at the academy, Sasuke swore that he could still feel spark the settled in his stomach. Just because his own arrogance didn’t allow him to rationally consider telling Naruto about his name on his wrists, a boy could dream. He didn’t know what would happen if he did tell Naruto, or how he would react. It was easier to assume that the name on Naruto’s wrist was Sakura, as he seemed to love her. Resignation was a painful thing, so even if he dreamt of feeling Naruto’s mouth against his neck, he never let it show.

~

     After everything, Naruto and Sasuke retook the Chuunin exam. The time it took for Naruto to persuade Sasuke to become a Konoha bordered on years, and when Sasuke caved and begrudgingly agreed, Naruto had crushed him in delight that made the black-haired shinobi’s cheeks darken. Naruto, with Sasuke and Sakura at his sides had passed the exam with flying colors, their skills far above Genin and Chuunin levels. Naruto had worn his jacket with such pride, Sasuke couldn’t help but also raise his head.

     With the newly established peace Naruto and Sasuke’s friendship grew and solidified, their fights were less, and when they weren’t,  they were filled with such fury and pain that whenever their anger cooled, their stomachs were sucked through the pit of regret. They would treat each other’s injuries, hands soft and gentle as bones were placed in their original positions and bandages were smoothed over cuts and bruises. Those fights were less and less as they completed missions that didn’t permit them to fool around, where the stakes for their survival were higher. Some missions crossed off the names on Naruto’s right arm, some missions erased the names. He never told his teammates, but on those missions he barely spared a fleeting glance to Sasuke.

     When a name would be crossed off his right arm, he would sit in front of their fire on their way back and itch as the black lines would inch painfully across his skin, across the freshly deceased name. He had already felt the pain of having a name crossed off while following Sasuke, and the death and carnage that followed him, but it never meant that he got used to it. It was much easier when the names erased themselves, when Naruto could change someone’s mind through sheer determination.

     Throughout the years of seeing the death of so many honorable Shinobi, Naruto had grown. He understood importance of Death, unfair as it was. And maybe in his own selfish way of defying it, at every name that was crossed out he plunged his right arm into the burning fire. Death was necessary, natural, omnipresent, but he never wanted anyone to die by his hands.

     Sasuke had almost found him like that, pressing his right arm into the fire in hopes of quelling the burning pain inside his skin and soul at the recognition of death. When Naruto heard Sasuke stirring he immediately removed his arm from the fire and retired to his sleeping place. For the rest of the night he would look over the the names on his skin that over the years had and would continue to ink themselves over. He sighed at the pain he would feel in future years and the people he had yet to meet and confront.

     For the rest of the night, Sasuke would try to forget what he glimpsed his best friend doing.

~

     Team 7 passes their Jounin exams just as they did their Chuunin, only this time Sasuke says yes immediately to Naruto’s request. Kakashi watches his students who have long since surpassed him and he can feel that bit of pride. Naruto is beaming.

     Over the years, Sakura, mostly to spite Ino, still pursued Sasuke. She knew the true name on her wrist, and she was sure Ino knew as well, but she sure as hell was not going to give Ino the satisfaction of falling in love with her. Rivals were rivals after all, and Sasuke was still handsome.

     She had come to Naruto’s house for the purpose of giving a message. She let herself in, her familiarity with everything Naruto’s evident as she stuck a key into the door and stepped in. Yelling out a greeting to announce she was in his apartment, she sat herself down on the couch and waited for Naruto to get out of the shower. She briefly considered opening the mission scroll, but the red tape on the bottom told her not to. She had seen S-rank mission scrolls before, and she was not about to open it and worry. The pink-headed girl heard the shower stop and then a door open.

     Naruto hadn’t heard her come in, or yell out her arrival, and he panicked at the sight of her sitting on his couch, towel almost slipping from his hips as his hands jerked in effort to protect himself. Sakura barked out a laugh at his reaction as he realized who it was and said hello, excusing himself to put on pants and a shirt.

     His familiarity with his body in his own home and familiarity with Sakura made him forget to cover his arms like he did at every moment when with another human, so when Sakura passed the message to him and they sat down for tea, she noticed the inscription on his arms.

     Her curiosity won over before she had a chance to fight it out of politeness and immediately she was all over his arms, drawn specifically to the dark lines on his right, some ragged and crossed off, smooth to the touch, and others still bright that spoke of adventures and death that would come. Sakura’s grip tightened when she saw the burn marks on his arms, over the crossed out names that refused to heal, even with Kyuubi’s help.

     “Naruto, what the hell are those?!” She disregarded the unusually long scripture of names on his arm, and ran her fingers gently over the reddened skin. Naruto, slightly panicked, began to try and pull his arm away from Sakura’s grasp, yet her grip was tight.

     “They’re fine, Sakura, Kurama says that they won’t heal for a while yet,” It was a partial truth, The Nine-Tailed Fox had said they wouldn’t heal at all, and that that’s what he got for infusing fire into skin while the names were changing.

     “Here, let me put some ointment on, it should at least get rid of the redness.” Naruto jerked his arm away quickly.

     “Sakura, it’s fine! I promise, it doesn’t even hurt!” One of the names on his wrist was crossed off recently, not by him but by some other person, and he was still struggling with the painful effects of the name rearranging itself. The fire on his skin at least made it bearable.

     Naruto let out a laugh, and a smile, thanking her for her concern and gently stepped away to refill the teapot. When he went into the kitchen, he immediately took out two long strips of bandages and began wrapping up his right, fire redenned arm. Naruto realized his mistake too late, and he could do nothing to stop Sakura from staring at his left arm, almost squinting  as she thought about her options. Naruto could only hope that she wouldn’t ask who was on his left wrist. His fears were realized.

     “Hey, who’s on your left?” Her voice was quiet, more tender than it was before. Naruto pursed his lips.

     “Someone.” It was a cryptic reply, something that was so out of character for Naruto, Sakura had to pause for a few moments. She turned into a prepubescent girl asking about her best friend’s crush.

     “If you tell me yours, I’ll tell you mine!” And Naruto had to laugh, before refusing. Had she asked years before he would’ve died for this chance, now he wished for the opposite. Despite his protest Sakura snatched his left arm and he stumbled at the unexpected force, the bandage falling out of his hand. Panic pulsed through him, girls were scary, girls trained with knives were scary. Sakura who to Naruto’s knowledge still loved Sasuke, was terrifying.

     There was silence as Sakura took a minute to process the name. And Naruto could only squeeze his eyes shut and wait. He remembered the way Sakura had searched for Sasuke’s approval each time they were together. Each time he walked into the hospital to see a white Narcissus. From shameless snooping, he knows how much Sakura strived to please Sasuke and make him notice her. He’s so autotuned to Sasuke’s movements that he can remember all of the glances Sasuke gave towards Sakura, at festivals, weddings and parties. His stomach sinks and his muscles clench at the lack of noise, save for his own breath and thudding heart. He opens his eyes and hears his apartment door slam. Naruto frowns, stomach sinking impossibly low as he loses a friend he’s worked so hard for.

 

     He leaves that night, for the S-Class mission that Sakura gave him. He packs his bags with the stuff he cares for most, including most of his scrolls on Uzushio. He wraps his arms in bandages that speak of heavy injuries. Maybe there was no broken skin or ugly bruise to cover, but there was a lonely, broken heart. After finishing his solo mission and waiting for the name on his wrist to cross itself off, he sends a hawk. And when the hawk flies off towards the setting sun, Naruto turns and walks the opposite way.

     He keeps the bandages on, and never takes them off. They stay when he sleeps, and stay when he fights. They’re drenched as he bathes in the streams or in the bathhouses of villages he passes. They had seen blood and they had seen tears, and the previously white bandages had turned ratty as the weeks went by and they slowly lost their color. He didn’t dare return to Konoha; no one wanted him there.

     Instead he wanders. He had wished before to know of Uzushio, and now as he travels by old tomes and old wives tales to the city, he crosses out the names on his arm until only one is left and it’s a name that Naruto cannot to look at, let alone destroy its holder.

     Uzushio, when Naruto finds it, is a mass of destroyed pillars and buildings. Places where homes and shops once stood had been overtaken by dust and slow-growing moss. The entire place filled him with sadness, and only there did he throw away the cloth that covered his burned arms. He lived there amongst the rubble, next to the library which still had books upon scrolls of sealing and history, long lost to the people of other villages. Naruto read them all, he sat for days with Kyuubi, learning everything he could on the specialized jutsu of his ancestors. And as months flew by and his skill progressed, the Uzushio sun and old chakra that remained embedded in the area reclaimed him as his hair turned redder day by day. It never was the true Uzushio red sported proudly by his mother, but it was enough, enough for the red to be recognized by the elders as Uzushio’s.

     Kyuubi was the only one Naruto spoke to, he was the only one who was around to reply. They never discussed why Naruto left, but he could always tell that when the subject came up, Kurama thought he was silly. Kurama never said anything outright about the names on his wrists as they were crossed out and thrust in the burning fire. He never spoke about the single name that remained clear and fresh on Naruto’s skin. He didn’t say a thing when Naruto noticed that Sasuke’s name had slowly faded from his right arm. Kurama had lived for centuries, he knew when books were false and boys were silly. He also knew when to let them sort it out themselves.

 

     When Naruto left, the fact wasn’t discovered immediately. People were aware that Naruto had left for a mission, but they were not aware he wasn’t coming back. The one who had found out first that Naruto had not returned after his report was Sasuke.

     He had stood in front of his best friend’s apartment with the cloth on his wrists secured tightly by belts. He had pounded on the door to Naruto’s apartment a few days after Naruto supposedly returned. Sasuke had waited for the telltale sounds of footsteps coming to the door, but at their absence, he scaled the wall and slid through the open window on the other side of the house. Stepping into Naruto’s apartment was new, simply because he had never been in it.

     The cold air that hit his face when he jumped over the windowsill set off alarm bells in his head, and burned his wrist where the Naruto’s messy scrawl resided under the cloth. The apartment was clean. There were no stray socks or kunai lodged in the panels of wood. There were no dishes in the sink or old cups and ramen bowls on the table. The entire house was cold. Sasuke called out and stepped in lightly, looking over at the small kettle stretched to the table and the bare walls. The emptiness that resonated from the walls felt even colder than it did on the Uchiha compound; it didn’t feel like home. Walking hesitantly through the main hallway he discovered a dusty cupboard, empty save for a few thin blankets and a box of broken kunai. Another door led to a bathroom, bare as well save for some hooks that were home to old towels. The bedroom, when Sasuke entered, was overturned. The closet was empty save for several orange jumpsuits and spare clothes that Sasuke had never seen Naruto wear. The drawers were open, the closet was open, and most of the bookshelf was bare.. And when Sasuke, in half a panic went back to the main entrance, he saw that there were no shoes, and the small box where he had seen Naruto store his shoes was empty and already layered with dust. His heart had raced, his breathing came short and his wrists burned.

     He went to Sakura immediately, his eyes unfocused as he walked through the streets. He found her in her apartment, and as she opened the door he forced himself in without bothering to say hello.

     “Hey! I was trying to find you a few days ago! Where--?”Her cheeks flushed as he took her hand and then her expression quickly morphed into pain as he squeezed and forced her against her entrance wall. Despite fantasizing about this exact scenario only nights before, Sakura found no pleasure in the position as she struggled to push him off of her. Sasuke’s eyes were dark and looked almost pained as she finally stopped struggling and looked at him. His voice was low, panicked in a way she had never, in all of the years she had known him, heard it in. When he asked her of Naruto’s whereabouts, the excitement in her was doused with water.

     “Sasuke, let me go! I don’t know where he is!” At her voice, raised and panicked as his hands squeezed her dainty wrists, Sasuke’s eyes widened and he let go. The black-haired man stepped back and leaned against the wall as Sakura rearranged her dress. When she looked up to meet his eyes, he began sinking to the floor, his knees seeming to give way underneath him as he cradled his wrists to his chest. Sakura knelt down to him with a shout of concern as he moved the fabric on his wrists out of the way and harshly pulled at the skin underneath, scratching it raw as the itch turned to a burn that almost had him crying. Sakura was unable to do anything as she faced her teammate go through an inner breakdown; all she could do was hold his hands apart so he wouldn’t do lasting damage to his wrists. Sakura only realized what had occurred after Sasuke left, shaken, yet determined. Guilt then poured through her as she remembered the name on Sasuke’s wrists, and how she left that night from Naruto’s place.

 

     Eventually, Naruto was found at Uzushio, not by an Anbu search party, but by a hawk that circled around Uzushio until he emerged from the library. The message it held was a request to return to Konoha to restore the balance of the village power. He didn’t expect anything less, but disappointment still flooded through him. He didn’t bother sending a reply, but let the hawk return to Konoha. The second search party was apparently composed of a jounin, several chuunin and a few genin, but Naruto never saw them as they got lost on their way to Uzushio. He assumed that they also wanted him to go back to Konoha. The last search party was composed of ANBU’s, all three of them, and they eventually found him. They repeated the same thing he had read in the message, that the balance needed to be kept between the villages, and as a jinchuuriki, Naruto had to come back to Konoha. As much as he wished to stay amongst the ruins of Uzushio, he bandaged up his hands that had previously been going uncovered, ignoring the looks of the masked shinobi at the crossed out names on his right arm. He didn’t mind anymore when they stared at his arms, he didn’t mind when they stared at his hair that the shinobi had once remembered to be as yellow as sunshine. The only reason he had tied up his arms was to spare the village, Sasuke, the pain that came with being connected to him.

     When they came back to Konoha, Sasuke is the first face Naruto sees at the gate and Naruto isn’t sure if that’s because of his position in the small crowd, or if he has become so accustomed to searching for Sasuke that he does it without even thinking about it. Sakura stands shyly behind him and Naruto looks away as she places a hand on Sasuke’s back. Naruto lets his arms get sealed by seals he knows are weak and pathetic compared to the ones he had learned in the decaying libraries of Uzushio. He lets himself be taken to Kakashi who immediately lets him go. Kakashi watched with thinly veiled surprise as Naruto undid his own seals and left the office, the 6th Hokage, and the ANBU members behind.

     It isn’t as if he left the village in disgrace. He’s loved by the village, he’s needed at the village for protection, for hero worship. No one needs him in Konoha simply because he’s himself. So he goes back to his old apartment, on the outskirts of Konoha, next to the small river and forest stretching out from his windows. He hopes that no one bought his place, he didn’t have the energy in him to find out that it was owned by someone else and then search for a new place just as secluded from the outside world.

     To his relief, he finds his apartment still belongs to him despite the months that he has been gone. The nameplate outside his door is still his and the key he left in a niche in the wall still fits the old lock. He opens the door, and for an odd reason the air that wafts out is warm and smells of ramen. Naruto wondered if he had accidentally stepped into the wrong apartment. But as he stepped in he heard footsteps. Naruto looked up and to his surprise he sees Sasuke standing with some cooking chopsticks in his hand and one of Naruto’s old aprons around his waist.

     “Am I… In the wrong apartment?” The question is phrased almost as a joke but Naruto could barely get it past the giant lump in his throat. His wrists begin to burn at the sight of Sasuke standing in front of him. Absently he scratches them and Sasuke’s eyes dart to the motion.

     “No... it’s still yours.” Sasuke replies, still staring at the bandages that encircle Naruto’s wrists. He retreats back into the kitchen.

 

     By some unspoken agreement, they eat ramen together on Naruto’s small, rickety kitchen table. Their mealtime is silent, they kept their eyes down and the atmosphere is not the same as when they had shared food as kids. This time the food is not interrupted by loud insults and complaints. Maybe it was because of the added body to his apartment, but suddenly, it didn’t feel cold anymore.

     The night was silent when they had moved to Naruto’s living room. After Naruto put away the part of the scrolls he took from Uzushio, they had each taken a book and read. There were no explanations as to why Sasuke was there, or why he made Ramen or even sat on Naruto’s couch, yet they didn’t mind. Their wrists burned.

     That arrangement was a daily occurrence. They would fall asleep that way, book in hand and on the couch, letting the springs weld knots in their backs. If by chance one would fall asleep earlier than the other, one of them would arrange themselves in a way that guaranteed their hands to touch. It was a petty way of comfort, but, it was enough.

     After that first silent night, the dams loosened and broke, and each time Sasuke appeared on Naruto’s doorway, Naruto would call from the kitchen to just come inside. Sasuke would deposit his shoes and then collapse at the kitchen table, whining about the genin team he’s being forced to mentor. Naruto would laugh and reply with his own story of whatever his own team was doing. Whatever was for dinner was served and the conversation continued, still laced with insults and flying rice, just as it was years before.

     Sasuke slept on Naruto’s couch, and Naruto refused to sleep on his bed when Sasuke stayed over. The bed was rarely used as they piled on the couch and woke with achy necks. They walked to the training grounds together, hair mussed since they woke up late, and met their genin teams. Joint genin team practices had Naruto laughing as Sasuke stood still as stone, after Naruto drenched him with a bucked of stream water. A cleverly hidden prank if he said so himself. The genin cowered behind the guffawing Naruto who held to his stomach as Sasuke took on the appearance of a drenched cat. With a growl Sasuke lunged straight for Naruto, who in his amusement forgot to duck. The genin who scattered watched wide-eyed as they saw the two jounin, powerful shinobi set in the Bingo Book, hunted with bounties over their heads, tussling on the ground, one sopping wet, and one bone dry and grinning who shortly had his head shoved into the stream.

     Sakura had joined them when her shift at the hospital ended, and she stood watching with the genin as Sasuke, with upturned lips, pushed Naruto into the water. One of the genin, never having seen the two shinobi in action, looked up at Sakura who was grinning at the happiness of her two teammates.

     “Are they going to live?” His voice was wary, and as she looked down and around at the genin who also looked severely worried for the wellbeing of their teachers. Sakura laughed and considered what the genin were seeing. Sasuke had his Sharingan activated, the crescents spinning lazily around as they followed Naruto’s movements. Naruto himself had Sage Mode activated, and remembering the terror of watching her two teammates perfect their techniques and almost kill each other, Sakura suppresses a shudder.

     “Oh, they’ll be fine, they usually do this,” She sighs and smiles, the genin look curiously at her and then back to the two shinobi.

     When they finished, Naruto ended up pinned to the ground, his redenned hair wet and muddied, and his cheeks also a blazing red, a grin on his face. Sasuke stepped back, his own slight brush darkening his cheeks both out of exertion and at the sight of having Naruto pinned beneath him moments before. He reached out a hand and Naruto grabbed it, pulling himself up.

     “Hey kids!” Naruto yelled out as he dusted himself off. Noticing Sakura he gave her a wave. Sakura smiled and walked up to the two shinobi, genin following behind her like lost ducklings. As Sasuke removed his hand from Naruto’s, Naruto’s hand came up to hold his bandaged wrists and rub absentmindedly. Sakura, noticing the movement, narrowed her eyes.

     “Naruto, how are your arms? I haven’t checked up on them in a while.” Sasuke’s head snapped to Naruto, then down to the bandages. Naruto widened his eyes brought his hands behind his back.

     “They’re fine Sakura, thanks…”

     “Come on Naruto, I still need to look at them.” She grabbed his sleeve and then her medic bag, pulling him away from the clearing and slightly into the woods. The genin crowded around Sasuke and for a short while he stared after the two who sat a ways away.

 

     Sakura began unwinding his bandages, and Naruto let her, since she knew what was behind them so there was no reason for him to protest anymore. He only kept a wary eye Sasuke’s way, making sure that he didn’t come close enough to see his arms. He wouldn’t break whatever Sakura and Sasuke had.

     He heard a small gasp as she finished unwrapping his right arm. He looked down at the names, all crossed off on the burned flesh. He watched her take out an ointment from her bag.

     “Sakura I told you before that it won’t heal.” He watched her rub the cool ointment into his marred skin, determination plastered on her face.

     “The names are all crossed off.” It was a statement, and Naruto searched her face for any other emotion.

     “Yes.” She remained quiet and and continued to rub.

     “Why are your arms burned Naruto?” He gave a laugh at the question.

     “You’ve never had a name crossed out have you…? The pain is bearable that way.” Sakura frowned at Naruto’s statement.

     “How long ago did you do that?” She looked him in the eye, forcing him to tell the truth.

     “A month ago, he,”--He pointed to the name in the crook of his elbow-- “I met him.” Sakura nodded, and rubbed more ointment on his arm despite his sigh.

     “Names are gone off your arm.” Sakura seemed determined to destroy any lasting conversation in favor of straight questions.

     “Yeah.” There was silence as she began wrapping up his right arm.

     “Why didn’t you tell him?” Naruto looked confused, and he pulled back his arms when Sakura was finished.

     “Tell who?” Sakura looked over at Sasuke, who met her gaze.

     “Sasuke, about his name.” She began putting her medic supplies away.

     “I wouldn’t dare break what you two have.” Naruto’s voice is firm and Sakura looks up in surprise, and her mouth opens to contradict.

     “What? Me and Sasuke aren--” Sasuke interrupted her.

     “Hey Loser! What’s wrong with your arms?” Naruto looked up to Sasuke who looked down at him.

     “Bastard! Nothing! Sakura’s just overreacting.” He waved his hands in dismissal. Sakura kept her mouth shut.

 

     When they went home and settled into the couch, Naruto, who had been on edge for the remainder of the day let the question escape him.

     “Aren’t you neglecting Sakura?” The question had flowed freer than Naruto had expected it to. Sasuke was stunned by the question.

     “What? Why would I be neglecting Sakura?”  They were sitting closer than they had before, the itch in their wrists continuing at the edge of their minds.

     “Aren’t you soulmates?” The question led to silence that stopped Naruto’s heart when he asked it. After the initial shock at comprehending the question, Sasuke laughed and Naruto had to chuckle along with him. The black haired jounin stopped suddenly, and quickly tore off the cloth covering his wrists. Naruto looked down at the arms exposed to him and felt his stomach flip at the familiar handwriting. Sasuke froze at Naruto’s silence, and suddenly his stomach plummeted.

     “Who’s on your…?” The question was quiet, and yet still too loud. Naruto at the sound of Sasuke’s voice ripped at the bandages. Eyes hungry to make out the name, Sasuke grabbed Naruto’s wrists and upon finding it, Sasuke relaxed and fell onto Naruto’s chest.

     Sasuke heard his blood pumping as it rushed to his face. Relief washed over him the minute he realized what it meant and he collapsed onto Naruto, burying his face into his neck. Arms immediately came to wrap around his waist and squeeze him against Naruto’s vibrating chest. He was laughing, in relief and at the realization that he wasn’t alone.

     He brought his hands up to cup Naruto’s face and bring his lips to press against his. That seemed to be enough for Naruto, and Sasuke felt his arms wrap tighter around his torso.

     “How long have we danced in circles?”

**Author's Note:**

> the problems in their relationship are all due to naruto's and sasuke's stupidity and misunderstandings, if sakura came off as the bad guy in any section and it wasn't resolved later, plz tell me so i can go back and change,,, sakura is not the scapegoat today.  
> hope u enjoyed, pls kudos, comment, and send me asks to tumblr on the same name and tell me what u liked, feel free to send me requests, but be warned i take a while to write them if not inspired by something ahahhaHAHHA
> 
> edit 6/29/16: I'm planning to re-edit this fic in the near future, please keep an eye out in the notes/summary.   
> ALSO! I've recently been seriously considering to expand this fic, and the fact that I haven't finished the series yet makes me hesitate to due to the fact there are some major things I hear about, vaguely know about, yet am not able to fully understand or form my own opinion on. I have a strangely fast internet connection so I'm hoping to finish the original this summer, and I'm going to hesitantly say that I'll be drafting... This isn't a promise, but if you're interested, keep an eye out (no hard feelings if this either never happens or happens in september/october/january/next june B^) ) .


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